Practice
by Burnse
Summary: Oneshot. Skwisgaar is worried about Toki's complete disregard for guitar practice, despite his constant requests for solos. Swisgaar/Toki fluff with mostly Angry!Toki.


Skwisgaar sat on the white rug that passed for a bedspread and idly plucked a few strings on his guitar. His left hand pulled on and off frets without his instruction, following muscle memory built long ago when he first learnt his scales. He knew he should probably spend more time training his right hand to keep up the phenomenal speed the world knew him for, but he was feeling relaxed. They'd successfully released another album and the next one was too far away to care about any time soon.

As his hands went through their practiced routine, his mind wandered back to the rhythm guitarist. He'd never admit it, but he was growing concerned with the man's apparently complete lack of practice. He'd gone to a guitar teacher, which had terrified Skwisgaar beyond all reason for a moment there, but the man had been so all over the place that while he could remember his teacher's birthday, it was beyond his capacity to remember to play his damn scales.

Skwisgaar decided it was time to do something about it. He'd tried threatening to record over him, he'd denied him solos, he'd even, god help him, been nice to him. Nothing.

Skwisgaar got up, the guitar still hanging around his torso, and made his way down to Toki's room.

"Heys, Toki, yous in theres?" he called, pushing the door open. The man was bent over a model airplane, tongue sticking out stupidly.

"What you wants, Skwisgaar?" he asked, carefully applying a line of glue to a wing.

"Why ahmn'ts yous practicing?" Skwisgaar asked, plucking a few notes on his guitar in demonstration.

Toki carefully pressed the wing against the body, holding it there. The tongue retreated into his mouth, the hard work done. "Practice whats?"

"Your guitars, dildos."

Toki looked guiltily over at the guitar propped up in the far corner, as far from his bed as possible. "I already dids."

"Liars." Skwisgaar accussed, picking up the guitar. He ran a finger along the string and held it up for the Norwegian to see. "Looks at it, It's gots dusts."

"So? Guitars gets dustys." Toki tried to defend himself rather poorly.

Skwisgaar sighed and put the guitar down. "Looks, Toki. Yous can'ts have mores solos if you don'ts practice."

Toki's brow wrinkled. "But I's don'ts gets solos now."

"That's because yous don'ts practice."

The tongue slid out of Toki's mouth again as he pulled his fingers carefully away from the model wing. "Looks!" He said proudly, showing off the finished model.

Skwisgaar took it from him and pointed at the guitar. "No mores planes. Practice. Nows."

Toki pouted and got up from the bench, slumping as he picked up the guitar. He plucked a few strings half-heartedly. "There's, I practiceds."

Skwisgaar's frown turned into an outright scowl. He threw his arms out, barring the door. "Toki, yous don'ts leaves this rooms until I hears yous practice properdly."

"Yous can'ts tells me whats to dos!" Toki yelled, dropping the guitar and bringing up a fist, reading to bury it in the Swedes face. He stopped when he saw the look of pain on the man's face.

Skwisgaar completely ignored the threat, instead dropping to the floor to scoop up the guitar Toki had tossed aside so recklessly. He checked it for damage.

"Yous gots to respeckts yours instruments, Toki!" he snarled.

"Whys? We gots, like, hundreds of thems." He gestured to the walls outside that they both knew were laden with guitar upon guitar, all freshly cleaned and tuned daily.

"That's your problems, you don'ts respeckts anythings." He frowned, putting the guitar away safely.

"That's nots true!" Toki protested.

Skwisgaar raised his forefinger. "Name mes one thing yous respeckts." He challenged.

Toki went red and looked away.

"Isrspsoos…" he mumbled, his face turned away.

"What?" Skwisgaar leaned forward, blonde hair falling off his shoulders. "What ahms you trying to says?"

The man took a deep breath and turned back to him, blue eyes fixed to the floor. "I respeckts yous."

Skwisgaar regarded him with ice-blue eyes. "Nos you don'ts."

"I dos too." Toki pouted. "Yous ahms the best guitarists in de worlds, and I ahms… not as goods."

Skwisgaar grabbed the sides of Toki's face, dragging his eyes up to meet his. "That ahms why yous _practice_, yous dildos. Beings a guitar gods ahmn't being happenings overnight."

Toki looked up at him, his wide blue eyes darting back and forth. Skwisgaar felt icy heat flare in his stomach as he really looked the man in the eye for the first time. He let go of his face, stepping back until he was flat against the wall. "Justs practices okays?"

He left quickly and went to find another groupie to shag and purge himself of the feeling and then sought out several bottles of vodka to erase any memory that remained.

"Tokis, toki, tok tok…" Skwisgaar knocked on Toki's door, inebriation making him roll the man's name around his mouth like a delicious sweet. He hadn't stopped at the vodka, adding a bottle of tequila and some green stuff starting a Pickles had said could really make you see stuff.

He peered hazily at the bottom of the bottle he was holding, wondering when he'd got it. Swirling the amber liquid around, he poured it down his throat and enjoyed the burning sensation as it hit his stomach. Something at the back of his mind said he wasn't supposed to enjoy that tummy warmth, but he didn't care right now.

Toki didn't answer his door, probably because unless the rest of Dethklok he didn't spend absolutely every night drinking himself into oblivion and then getting up at three in the afternoon to do it again.

Skwisgaar fumbled with the suddenly intensely difficult door handle and staggered inside the dark room. "Tok tok…" he mumbled to himself, enjoying the rhythm to the words. "Tok tok…"

His shoulder hit the wall heavily and he used it to find his way across the room. His shins hit Toki's bed and he gave into gravity, falling over heavily.

"Ack!" Toki cried, waking up to a very drunk, very heavy Skwisgaar crushing his legs. "Get offs me!"

Skiwsgaar dragged himself up and crawled into the gap between Toki's body and the wall, enjoying the warmth and gentle bounce of the room when he closed his eyes. "Tok tok…" he mumbled incomprehensibly.

"What yous wants, Skwisgaar?" Toki asked irritably, his hand searching to the light.

"Has yous spractid todays, Tok tok?" Skwisgaar asked, his mouth pulling up into a smile more because it felt interesting than because he was happy. He always became aware of his mouth when he got drunk, playing with words and enjoying the feel of booze and ladies on his lips and tongue.

"Sprak-tid? What ahms yous talking about?" He finally found the switch and light bloomed, sending Skwisgaar reeling into the corner. He was shirtless and still clutching the bottle like it was his precious guitar.

"This ahms not your rooms, Skwisgaar. Gets out. I ahms asleeps." Toki grumbled and tried to kick the lead guitarist off the end of his bed, but he kept hooking himself into the wall. The brunette gave up and hunkered down under the blankets, determined to ignore the man until he left.

Skwisgaar ran his hands along the thin blanket that covered Toki's leg.

"I ahms not a lady, Skwisgaar." Toki said firmly and kicked the hand away.

"But yous so pretties with the long hairs…" Skwisgaar murmed drunkenly, falling onto his elbows as he reached to play with Toki's brunette locks. His eyes were half-open, barely.

"Gets out!" Toki yelled and swung a fist under the blonde's chin. He swayed and the fist barely skimmed him, striking thin air.

"Yous touches nice." Skwisgaar murmured, his eyes closed as he flopped his torso across Toki's waist. Toki pulled his hand back down to wind up for another punch but Skwisgaar caught it on the way and stopped him dead by planting a kiss on his wrist.

White hot fire bloomed through him, burning through his veins like liquid nitrogen. He withdrew his hand sharply, terrified.

Skwisgaar rubbed his head against Toki's waist as he tried to sit up, but instead he ended up leaning on his front hands, his blonde hair pooling over Toki's chest.

"The fires in the bellies…" he said to himself, "is goods froms a bottle, whys not from thish?"

To Toki's complete horror, Skwisgaar pitched forward and mashed his face into his. Cheeks smooshed and noses bent in an awful combination of headbutt and a kiss.

"Yous not doings it right." Skwisgaar growled, his lips still physically off Toki's face.

"I's not doings it rights?" Toki flared, his lips brushing the swede's cheek as he spoke.

"Ja, betters." The man purred.

Toki pushed him away with one hand, enraged. "Skwisgaar, I's not a lady! Stops it!"

Skwisgaar opened his blue eyes dreamily as he pitched forward again, Toki struggling in his awkward sitting position to hold the man at bay. Their noses brushed, and Toki felt burning ice stab his gut when the blonde man looked into his eyes.

"Yous feels the burn?" he asked, slurring slightly. His hand pressed on the blanket above Toki's stomach as he spoke.

Toki swallowed. "Ja."

"Is goods, ja?" Skwisgaar asked, tilting his head to the side. His blonde hair swayed with every loose movement, mesmerizing the smaller man.

"Is somethings." He replied. "Looks Skwisgaar, yous verries drunk, yous needs sleep. You cans have my beds tonight and I'll find somethings else."

The look on the Swedes face was heartbreaking. Toki sighed. "Or I cans stays here to makes sure you don'ts thow ups in my beds."

Skwisgaar smiled and Toki was filled with an intense warmth he hadn't felt since the man had said to him those six magical words, 'I wants yous in this band'.

"Justs no more tummy burns, okays? Go to sleeps." He almost pleaded, desperately tired and unwilling to deal with a drunken Skwisgaar for any longer.

Skwisgaar nodded, his blonde hair bouncing, and Toki pushed him to one side gently. The man curled up behind him instinctually, used to being the bigger spoon for women of all shapes and sizes during his random romps.

Toki's stomach flared one more time when the blonde man nuzzled into him, his breath hot on the back of his neck.

"I wants you…" he breathed, and Toki's gut clenched tight in panic.

"Whats?" he squawked, his gut clenched tight in trepidation.

"…to praktdis…" the swede finished, and the room filled with his drunken snores.


End file.
